When I first visited Planned Parenthood to obtain birth control in high school I've heard from friends that even as a teenager, Planned Parenthood sends you home with one of those plastic thingies with helpful diagrams on how to feel for lumps in your boobs (see tata pics, above). You're supposed to hang it in your shower; we had one at our first college apartment but took it down because boys thought it was weird but I am not sexually active nor have I ever been Dad so I don't really know. The message was that breast cancer is one of those things that you should really catch early if at all possible. The new message, however, is that women don't even need to perform self-examinations, nor do they need regular mammograms until the age of 50:

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Everybody loves babies! They are the future! Am I right, or am I right?! WRONG. Insurance companies hate babies. They hate fat babies; they hate skinny babies. Most of all, they hate women, because women have babies.

As congress spins its wheels on a public option and Hilary Clinton sits in her office, all like "I told you this shit was harder than it looked," the insurance industry continues to equate having a vagina with having a pack-a-day habit. Being a woman, it turns out, is considered a pre-existing condition by some providers:

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For females, squatting to pee is almost always a horrible disaster. It’s physically awkward, plus it exposes your woman flower to less friendly, potentially rash-spreading plants (or just exposes your woman flower). You are more likely than not to end up with pee on your person or your clothing, if for no other reason than you are typically working with limited resources that don’t include toilet paper. Pregnancy tests and urine samples—both fairly stressful events already—usually require a serious post-pee hand washing (admit it). I even got my first and only Minor in Possession ticket while squatting behind a bush at tailgate. Ya know who didn’t get an MIP that day? The guy peeing next to me. The only difference? He was standing. (Also he was 21.)

Too address this issue, a slew of recent products offer biological females the chance of a lifetime: writing their name in the snow with pee! The P-Mate and the Whizzy are essentially cardboard funnels that you pee in to, while the Shenis is actually a hollow (fake) penis. At 12 inches, it can even give you an ego boost, although unlike the cardboard versions it does not seem to be disposable. Would you use a pee aid? Before you say “EW NO” think back to the time you had to crouch between cars and have people stand guard on either side of you, only to be too drunk to squat properly, and ended up peeing on your shoes. If that’s never happened to you, you need to get out more.

After the jump, check out some clutch videos of these devices in use! [Warning: these may be NSFW, depending on how much your boss sucks at life.]

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I keep seeing these vomit inducing mini-trailers for New in Town, the latest flick to explore the question that has plagued humanity through the eons: Can regular vapid pretty girls be smart? All I see is high heels, split pants, a crash into a snowbank, and a blonde falling backward off of a porch. This slapstick crap looks as bad as Bride Wars, which, even though I haven't seen it, has got to be the biggest American embarrassment since Gitmo.  

I haven't actually watched the lengthy preview I've done the service of sharing with you (above), because I don't want to, but the one that keeps running on teevee proclaims that New in Town is a cross between Legally Blonde and Sweet Home Alabama. Uhhh I don't think two Reese Witherspoon movies gives you a Renee Zellweger comedy. That's just basic Film Studies 101. What, like it's hard?